


1304: Revelation

by birdsandivory



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Childhood Friends, ComputerTech!Matt, First Dates, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Hilarity, In Public, Lotor is a video game protag, Love Confessions, M/M, PoliceOfficer!Shiro, Shatt, This is cute I swear, as he should be, festival games, hand holding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-27
Updated: 2019-01-27
Packaged: 2019-10-13 09:40:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17485748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/birdsandivory/pseuds/birdsandivory
Summary: Shiro's been waiting all his life to tell Matt how he feels - dramatic as it sounds - and now that he has a chance, something is always there to get in the way.Somethingbeing a slew of festival games and a grand prize stuffed lion from a television series called Voltron.





	1304: Revelation

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kunfetti](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kunfetti/gifts).



> This is a gift for my DEAREST W I F E. I adore her and she's a wonderful, wonderful friend who deserves to not have her presents uploaded LATE. But. Alas.
> 
> Enjoy!

“Look at that _tree!_ ”

Shiro’s gaze follows Matt fondly, tawny eyes lit up by strings of flickering Christmas lights shining from the fairgrounds’ centerpiece, a pine so massive in size - they would fail to see the star at the very top if it wasn’t a beacon in the night. He thought it funny, at first, when his best friend asked him to go to the Winter Fest in town because - _after living in the same place for twenty-odd years_ \- the computer tech’s never gone. Yet, seeing the look on his face when they step through the gates, he kicks himself for never suggesting they go before.

Being there now, he realizes that it’s the best opportunity he has to tell Matt how he feels.

For the longest time, years in counting, Shiro can’t remember a moment in which he hadn’t been absolutely smitten with his best friend. They’ve known each other since they were kids, lived through the same school strife and private tragedies, were included in the lives of their families together.

He’d just... always believed their relationship would naturally become something more.

But he never accounted for the rift that had been created once they began leading their own lives.

Best friends they were still and they see each other from time to time between the Holt’s job and his own downtown at the Garrison Police Department, more than most, in fact - but Shiro isn’t satisfied with friendly late nights and passing hello-goodbyes. And after enduring a few of Matt’s come and go relationships, he’s decided that he really can’t take it anymore. The time they’re going to spend together, amongst lights and rides and festive foods and games, is going to be perfect. And it’s the right atmosphere for asking the man to be his.

He just needs a moment.

“It’s _huge,_ man.” Matt sighs. “Where do they even find those?”

“In pine forests,” Shiro quips playfully, smiling when the other rolls his eyes and knocks him with a sharp shoulder.

“You know what I mean.” And he does, though maybe it has long since lost its wonder because he’s grown older, less susceptible to the enchantment of Christmas. Shiro admires Matt for what he’s lost, if just for the fact that he sees everything as if it’s the first time. “It’s pretty amazing.”

“Yeah, it is,” he smiles. “What do you want to do first?”

“Hmm, I’m not sure. There’s so much.” Matt’s fingers (gloveless in this cold, unlike Shiro’s) tap on his own chin, and the older man is about to suggest one of the less daunting looking mini games when a hand clamps onto his forearm, his best friend pointing excitedly toward a few tents surrounded by festival goers. “Look, Shiro! Ring toss, let’s do that!”

Shaking his head endearingly at the other’s shouts, he shrugs. “Sure.”

Matt doesn’t need to be told twice and practically drags him into the crowd, calling out a ‘sorry’ here or an ‘oops’ there as he bumps into more people than necessary. And it doesn’t take them long to arrive at the table, the showrunner quick to appear before them, a dozen rings along his skinny arm.

“Come one, come all, to the greatest festival game in Garrison City!” Bright paint illuminates dark skin, the milky blues and yellows creating the image of a lion on the man’s cheek. “Name’s Lance. How many games can I get ya? Two? Three? If you win, you get a pair of meal tickets.”

“Showing off my skills _and_ free food?” It’s been barely a minute and Matt’s sold, Shiro expecting as much as the other leans onto the counter of the booth. “Where has this game _been_ all my life?”

“You betcha!” Lance - Shiro had to look at his name tag again to remember - is enthused, grinning back at the tech. “Now, who’s playing? You or your big, beefy boyfriend?”

The word ‘boyfriend’ has him short-circuiting.

Matt seems unbothered by it, though, bouncing on his feet as he looks hopefully his way. Of course, the older man can hardly think of the game while the real problem goes unaddressed.

He decides to rip that bandaid off himself.

“I’m not-- _We’re_ not--”

There’s a tug on his arm that steals all of his attention. “Oh, come on, Shiro. With both of us playing, there’s twice the chance at free food.”

The look on Matt’s face tells him to put the issue to rest.

“I guess so.”

“Perfect!” Two freckled fingers are lifted toward the gamerunner. “Two games, fine sir!”

“You got it!” Lance moves to pluck twelve rings from his thin limbs, setting six in front of each of them before bending down to reach beneath the counter. “Now, rules are, you ring one of the outer bottles and you get a cute finger puppet.”

A hand is shoved up at them suddenly, five fingers wiggling the _Lions of Voltron_ in puppet form from that Legendary Defender show the both of them like to watch; he seems enthralled, though his enthusiasm quickly turns into a contemplative hum.

“Got a robot one?”

“Only lions.” Lance says, pointing at Matt’s sudden pout with the blue one on his index. “ _But,_ if you ring one of the inner bottles, you’ll be eating for free at Coran’s Burger Hub.”

“Alright!” Big, tawny eyes look Shiro’s way, and he picks up the rings in response, nodding. “Inner bottles, Shiro! I want a milkshake.”

How can he say no?

“You got it.”

Lance announces the game, and after the countdown, Shiro tosses rings like he’s ten again and fighting over which prize he’s taking home as if his life depends on it - only this time, Matt’s beside him, laughing every time he misses, howling whenever Shiro happens to come close. It’s enough to have him grinning along, cheering when the other barely rounds a bottle, his gut painful with all of their shared laughter being forced through.

It’s amazing.

By the end of it, they’re smiling so hard that he’s sure his oldest friend’s face hurts as much as his own. The disappointment comes, however, when he notices that they didn’t hook a single bottle. Shiro feels good about losing, he doesn’t mind it, but the huge pout on Matt’s face makes him wish he’d tried harder.

“Mm, shame… Well! I’ll give you a finger puppet anyway, for your troubles. Who’ll it be?” Lance says with a dramatic wave of his hands as he saunters back up to them, the tech specifically - lifting his fingers with a puppet of every color on each one. And being so focused on the two of them, Shiro nearly misses the ring that the gamerunner slides onto the table while he has the other distracted, looking between it and Lance and trying to figure out whether the smooth action is purposeful or not.

He picks it up, deciding he doesn’t care either way, looking to the pair just in time to catch Matt picking the green lion.

It’s not enough of a prize, not what the man really wants, so with as much concentration as he can muster - Shiro chooses a target. It’s an inner bottle, nothing special or different than the rest of them, but he wants _that_ one and he wants those meal tickets. And with a deep breath, he gives it a calculated toss.

The loud clinking of plastic rounding a glass lip tells him that he’s made it.

Matt and Lance must have heard it, too, because they both turn to look at him - eyes wide.

He grins sheepishly. “I, uh, had one more ring.”

“You got it…” Matt speaks first, looking at the rung bottle with lips parted slightly before he jumps in place, toothy smile splitting his face. “Hah! Hey, Shiro, you got it!”

His excitement over Shiro’s victory is infectious, and he can’t help but feel a little giddy - surprised, even - especially when the man grabs his face and plants a hard smooch on his cheek.

When he reaches up to brush his fingertips over the very spot, he has to admit that it was worth it.

Lance smacks two meal tickets into his chest, looking smug and self-satisfied. “Not bad, big guy.”

Once they’re in his hands, Matt’s quick to snatch them, tossing an awkward arm across Shiro’s taller frame. “Yeah, my hero - now, let’s go get some grub!”

Only, they don’t.

Coran’s Burger Hub would have to wait, it seems, because as they’re heading over - Matt walking closer to the older man than usual, not that he wants to complain - they spot a water gun racer booth a few steps away and there is no way they would make it past the line of brightly colored faux arms without the other wanting to ‘cream him’ at a few games. The tech’s words, of course.

It isn’t as if Shiro knew how to use a gun or anything.

He’s only a police officer.

But he wouldn’t put a damper on Matt’s enthusiasm, especially since he’d shoved that green lion into his jean pocket and looked at him like he couldn’t say ‘no.’

Not that he _would._

And once they stood in front of the booth, the sky finally a chilling ebony beholding stars instead of that tepid evening orange, everything surrounding them bright and full of life - he can’t help but feel the need for that excitement, too.

“I’m an expert at this.” Matt’s eyes are a breathtaking blue under the lights of the levelers, painting his pale skin in pinks and purples as he watches Shiro grab for a plastic yellow water gun, grinning the techie’s way.

“Are you?” When the man steps up beside the cop, taking a gun of his own and aiming it for good measure, Shiro’s attracted to a tongue poking out from between two lips and one eye squished shut so hard - half of his face is scrunching.

“Sure am.” Looking up as a tall guy walks over from behind the game cart, bandana displaying different colored lions across his forehead, Shiro rolls his eyes.

“Hi, guys! I’m Hunk, your gamerunner today. Are you two ready for a quick test race before we compete for our grand prize?” A booming, yet utterly kind voice calls to them from above, and two thick hands gesture to the colorful cylindrical levelers around him. “Tonight, you’ll be aiming to win this limited edition figurine of Prince Lotor from everyone’s favorite game series - _Tales of Altea!_ ”

Matt beams from beside him.

“Hey, that’s your favorite game, Takashi!”

Shiro freezes for a moment, the very fact that Matt just called him _‘Takashi’_ for the first time in their entire friendship hitting him in the gut like a swift stroke from the famed Master Bayard, and he can barely contain the bloody blush on his cheeks - brows shooting up in surprise. “What?”

Whatever the other was going to respond with is lost when Hunk gives a shout. “Alright! Are you ready for a test round? On your marks… get set…”

“You ready to lose?” Matt’s grin is so big, the apples of his cheeks disturb the round lenses of his glasses.

Shiro brushes his first name aside, thinking that he’s just trying to throw him off his game. Thick hands grip the handle of the water gun tighter. “Not quite.”

“Go!” With Hunk sounding off, Shiro pulls the trigger, a wild look in his eyes as he aims for the target and does his best to keep on it - his leveler rising in competition with Matt’s, the techie’s just a little ahead. He wavers from center more than once, and it’s costly; once the alarm rings, he’s a little peeved to have lost, especially since he keeps an actual gun holstered to his hip six days a week.

And, of course, his best friend looks awfully smug about it.

“Hah! Take that!” His declaration is followed by a snorty laugh. “God, I’m so good.”

Hunk smiles from above and it only serves to make Shiro sigh. He’s no sore loser, but it did feel like he was being shown up at his own game. Luckily, their friendly showrunner reminds them that he still has a chance. “This is only a test run since we’re waiting on more competitors, so no prizes this round, but good job.”

Shiro turns to Matt with a fire in his eyes. “You’re going down next time.”

The other man scoffs. “No way, you’re not even doing it right.”

“Not doing it right?” He asks with a raised brow. “You do know what my job is, don’t you?”

Speckled hands move to set the water gun down in place before the tech mosies on over to Shiro, bumping into him playfully. “What you know there won’t apply here, you know.”

“Not to be ‘that guy,’ but this looks pretty aim and… fire.” His words trail off into silence the moment Matt’s body is pressed close to the back of his own, the man’s chest warm against the middle of Shiro’s back - a long, strong arm ghosting along his own as pale fingers wrap around his grip on the gun. He can feel the flare up of heat on the back of his neck, burning through his clothes, hot despite the winter air - a scorch wherever the other happens to touch.

“Not when it’s a game that’s made to be rigged. Hold steady.” Breaths like embers brush the back of Shiro’s ear and his lips press tightly together as he tries to quell his embarrassment; this isn’t something he’s used to from Matt, entering his personal space like he just _belongs._ His efforts fail him the moment he turns his head to look his friend’s way, a cheesy smile on a sweet face, and he’s unsure if the redness of Matt’s cheeks is a blush or his excitement. Shiro’s hand is given a squeeze. “Just like this.”

He grasps the gun so hard, he’s afraid he’ll crack the plastic. “This? …Are you tricking me into something that’ll keep me from winning?”

“The only trick is that it’s not like a real gun, officer.” Matt’s quick to shut him up. “Veer a little to the left.”

When he backs away, though barely, Shiro’s thrown out of their private conversation when people begin filling the other spots, Matt’s included - a man with a mullet and a permanent frown taking the water gun in his gloved hands. He’s ready to try and point out that the gun he’s grabbed is already taken. “Hey--”

“It’s fine.” There’s a gentle pat on his hip, close and intimate, and he doesn’t know what to say to that, so he doesn’t respond at all - Matt stepping away and giving him space. “Just do what I taught you and win, okay?”

Looking his friend’s way and then at the guy in his place, he’s fueled by the way violet eyes almost laugh at him, as if he’s silently being challenged - and it’s enough to make him comply to those wishes, glaring the man’s way.

“Alright! We’ve got a full house tonight. If everyone is ready and on their marks, the race begins…” Shiro plants himself firmly on the ground, taking the pause to ready his stance, aiming for his target. “Now!”

Pulling the trigger once more, he takes Matt’s advice and travels just off what he believes to be center, surprised when he keeps on target and reveling in the sound of the man cheering him on from the sidelines. He doesn’t even give a second thought toward his competition, focused until the alarm sounds, eyes shining when his leveler lights up in an array of colors.

“And we have a winner!” The gamerunner shouts.

Shiro’s still in place at first, a little mesmerized by all of the lights, but before he knows it - he’s smiling, a wide grin spreading across his face thanks to a child-like excitement he hasn’t felt in years. He turns to Matt and he’s honestly grateful; it’s because of him that he feels like such a kid again. “I did it!”

“Heck yeah!” The man’s hands reach up to clap his shoulders before they’re interrupted by Hunk leaning over the side of the stand, handing Shiro a printed card with _‘Tales of Altea’_ in gold across the front and the two main game characters smiling at him on the back.

“Congrats, dude. You can exchange this voucher for Prince Lotor at the prize booth before you leave. Enjoy your prize!”

“Thanks,” Shiro nods.

Walking away with the tech in tow, he spots the man who took up Matt’s gun, puffing out his chest haughtily as they passed him by, only brought down to Earth when his partner in crime grabs for the voucher. “Holy cow, this guy is awesome. Look at that hair!”

“Well, he’s Prince Lotor. He _has_ to be awesome,” turning his attention back to Matt, he’s sure to keep just a step ahead in order to clear the crowd for the other while he’s distracted by a long wave of mane. Shiro heads toward the Burger Hub again, since it was their first destination after the ring toss; the rest of the night is theirs after a good meal, and he’s positive that neither of them have eaten since the morning.

And… maybe when they sit down, there will be time to talk.

Matt’s drawn in by yet another game, however, and it’s a sight Shiro can’t deny - willing to indulge in his every whim if it meant seeing the man happy.

“Shiro… Shiro!” He bumps into the officer in his excitement, looking between him and the tall setup just a few feet away. “Oh, man - _Test Your Strength!_ Let’s go do that!”

His stomach chooses that moment to growl.

“You sure you don’t want to eat first?”

“Nope! Come on, I want to win you the big prize.” Matt grabs for his arm, the words are playing over in his mind and Shiro knows he’s lost.

They walk up to the towering fixture housing a comically large bell at the top, over-decorated mallet leaning against it. Shiro thinks to ask about the missing gamerunner as Matt babbles about the number one prize - a giant plush of the one and only Black Lion from an old 80’s animation that they both love so much.

For nostalgia’s sake.

He… he’s too old for that _now._

The question of their host dies on his lips when a familiar face pops up from behind the tower, and he and Matt are equally surprised to see her.

“Hey, it’s Pidge.” Shiro smiles her way, and she’s quick to shoot him a grin and a wave, looking happy to see him. Her eyes zero in on Matt, though, and she decidedly takes on the appearance of every evil villain ever carded.

“Brother,” she bites.

“Gremlin,” Matt responds.

“Gonna show Shiro how weak you are?”

The tech straightens his posture, barely, giving the girl a huff. “Actually, he’s about to swoon over the brute force of my amazing muscles.”

“Your amazing muscles? Hah!” Pidge is swift to step over to the mallet, lifting it with ease before she walks over to Matt, thrusting it into his chest. “Go on then.”

“I will. And I’m winning Shiro the Black Lion.” Wrapping his hands around the hammer, the officer watches him with a smile, crossing his arms over his chest in response to the chill - the air growing colder by the hour. Matt looks his way, determined. “Don’t you believe in me, Shiro?”

He nods, not expecting to be included much in their spat - he’s often mentioned while in the same room, but nothing more, after all. “Of course! Show Pidge who’s boss.”

“Again, _hah,_ ” the younger Holt drawls monotonously.

Her brother brushes her off, taking a hold of the handle tightly, knuckles white with the strength of his grip. “Mock me all you want. I’m gonna prove you wrong…. _For Voltron!_ ”

With a mighty swing, Matt slams the mallet down against the pallet, and Shiro’s actually pretty impressed, even if it only hits the 800 mark - and he laughs hard the moment the man stands straight up again, looking as if the machine has offended him. Shiro means it only in good taste, but his friend seems a bit flustered, bristling before pointing to Pidge smirking smugly in her uniform.

He points a finger at her. “This game is rigged!”

“Maybe you’re just weak,” Pidge crosses her arms nonchalantly and Shiro can practically feel the flames of Matt’s ire a couple of feet away, amused whenever he and his sister are at odds.

His mirth only becomes greater when his friend starts jabbing at the air the younger Holt’s way. “I’m calling your supervisor. I should get the lion for the inconvenience!”

She only sticks her tongue out in retaliation.

“It’s okay, Matt. There’s always next time.” Shiro cuts in, attempting to lessen the chances of two siblings spilling blood on festival grounds, and when the tech looks at him, he believes he’s successful. A twisted frown becomes a cheshire cat grin, however, and he’s not so sure he likes how his friend is looking at him.

Matt steps aside, gesturing to the mallet. “Win the big prize, Shiro.”

“Me?”

“Look, I’m pretty amazing at things like this, but even _I_ have an off day.” Shiro has to raise a brow at that despite the fact that it’s Classic Matt, but the man saunters up to him and gives his chest a deceivingly innocent pat, showing off a new pair of puppy dog eyes. “Besides, you’re the only one whose rippling biceps can win this sham of a game. Do it for me.”

He falls for them too easily.

“Fine,” gloved hands pull the hammer from Matt’s hands, “but after this, let’s go eat. I’m starving.”

“Oh, yeah! We do have those food tickets, don’t we?” The man grabs at his stomach, blanching. “Aw, man, now _I’m_ hungry. Thanks a lot.”

“ _Charming._ ” Pidge chimes.

“Shut it.”

She rolls her eyes, looking to Shiro, and he tightens his hold on the handle. “Are you gonna play or not?”

“Y-Yeah.” He can feel their impatience beneath their gaze and he turns away, walking toward the pallet. “Here we go.”

Matt cheers wildly and he can’t help but feel pumped by it, just as he had been at the water gun race. He pulls the mallet back over his head, aiming for the middle of the pallet, his best friend screaming in the background: “You got this, Shiro!”

It isn’t a soft moment accompanied by a love confession like he’s been trying to figure out since they’ve gotten here, but it’s a comfort. He’s always been Shiro’s biggest fan and he owes it to him to prove he isn’t wrong for sticking by his side - even if it’s just to win some stuffed lion.

Well… it’s not just _any_ stuffed lion.

Shiro stops thinking so much and just swings.

The ring of the bell shakes the ground they’re standing upon, and it’s only after a sudden silence that he notices he’s beaten the Test of Strength, hitting the 1000 mark easily. His face feels hot when he becomes aware of the attention on him from a wide-eyed Pidge, a mystified Matt, and several onlookers that had stopped to watch.

Shiro looks over to this friend again, smiling sheepishly, and that seems to set the man into motion.

“Yea-hah!” The tech throws his arms up with a grin, running over to his sister and snatching the Black Lion on its perch beside her, pretending to tip an imaginary hat. “Thank you, Gremlin.”

Pidge looks at them both with a twitching brow and a huff, but a soft upturn of lips betrays her - and she gives them both a shrug. “You’re still weak. Let that prize be a reminder that someone else had to win it _for_ you.”

Matt appears at Shiro’s side, laughing in his triumph. “I have no shame, so don’t expect it to keep me up at night.”

The bickering doesn’t end for minutes yet, but Shiro enjoys this part of their relationship; the fighting isn’t serious, and he thinks they just do it because it’s a conversation that doesn’t have to end. Pidge is still a showrunner, however, and other festival goers showing up to play is their cue to leave.

He and Matt walk in silence for a while, crossing the park once again, only they both have a desire for food this time. It’s a comfortable quiet, and Shiro wonders if he should say something about his feelings now or wait until the end. The tech’s beaten him to the punch, eyes looking up from behind fogging and defogging glasses, as if there are gears turning behind them.

“Hey, Shiro?” The officer slows his walk as his friend does, until they’ve both stopped a ways away from the concession line. Matt pushes the giant lion in his arms forward, averting his gaze. “Here.”

He stares at every sunny spot on Matt’s face, it seems, before he takes the plush - it fitting more easily along his taller frame. Shiro smiles at the gift, finding the way the other so earnestly gives it away endearing. “You really wanted this for me.”

“Yeah… I know I didn’t win it, but it’s the thought, right?” Matt gives him a shrug and he’s unsure about the sudden shy disposition he holds.

“I _do_ love the Black Lion.” He admits, pulling it close and feeling a bit victorious when his best friend lights up. The moment is only ruined as his stomach betrays him, and he shifts his eyes to the line up ahead. “Come on, free food awaits.”

The line at Coran’s is longer than he anticipated, but Matt seems happy, teasing Shiro with his green lion finger puppet just because he can’t fight back - not when he’s got an armful of oversized plush toy. But once they reach the counter, everything goes a bit more smoothly, both of them carrying a ridiculous amount of food to the nearest empty table and taking a seat. The Black Lion barely fits in her own metal seat, but they deem it good enough, so long as she steers clear of any ketchup mountains.

Shiro relaxes a bit as they eat and talk, though Matt is always full of antics.

“Hey, that’s mine!” The cop protests from behind his burger, giving the tech a look.

Taking one more obnoxious sip from Shiro’s cup, Matt sets the milkshake down between them with a satisfied hum, smiling teasingly. “Tastes good.”

He wouldn’t have him any other way.

“You got the same flavor.” It doesn’t matter how stern he sounds, however, the laughter in his voice - the crinkle of his eyes - always seems to give it away.

“Yours _tastes_ better,” the man argues, reaching up to pull his hair back, tying it up with the band he keeps around his wrist before he grabs for a french fry. The comment has Shiro flushed, but he would swear until his last breath that it’s just the cold. Matt notices his drawn silence, looking up as he kicks at his shoes beneath the table playfully. “Hey, this has been great.”

And Shiro sparks like the tree illuminating the whole of the festivities around them, not unlike usual when he’s spending time with the man in front of him; but maybe, it’s just a bit less subtle. “Yeah, it has.”

“I’m having a lot of fun.” Matt suddenly grabs for the arms of his chair, awkwardly dragging it over until he’s sitting _next_ to Shiro instead of across from him. And as he plops heavy with a lopsided grin, he props an elbow on the table, pressing a freckled cheek into a loosely curled fist. “You are, too, right?”

“Of course!” He admits it near automatically, as though he doesn’t want the other to believe for a split second that anything is greater than spending time with him. “I have my best times with you.”

Matt seems over the moon with his answer.

“Okay, just making sure.” The excitable air Shiro has been exposed to calms to a gentle evening breeze; pale, thin hands pull and fiddle with one another almost nervously, and part of him is a little concerned. “It’s just sometimes you’re there and sometimes you’re not. You just seem to have something on your mind, that’s all.”

_You. Always you._

“I’m having a great time, really!” It’s odd, having to reassure Matt, it isn’t something he’s ever had to do, especially since he feels like he hasn’t been acting any different. His best friend has always been an extremely outgoing and confident guy - to see him withdrawn is an instance Shiro has never witnessed, even in the man’s weakest moments.

But he perks up quickly, for what it’s worth.

“I’m glad,” the man’s voice a glimmer of hope.

Those few, gentle words ignite a flame in Shiro.

 _Now_ is the time.

Everything is settling; the festival is bustling, of course, but in their little corner with the company of a finger puppet and a pillowy lion that definitely won’t fit on Shiro’s bed - everything feels right.

He just has to hold onto his courage.

It can’t be so hard; he is the last person he knows to lack directness and honesty.

“Matt, can I tell you something?” As soon as he says it, he’s hit with nerves, pulling his hands to his lap and clasping them together - clammy and uncomfortable. He shouldn’t feel so anxious; besides caring for the man the way he does, Matt’s his best friend and he can tell him anything. Even this. Those sweet, tawny eyes look to him, smiling in a way he isn’t quite used to - but he brushes the thought that it might be called ‘affectionate’ from his mind. “Look, I…”

“Spit it out, Takashi.”

Shiros’ brain stops working then, because even though he gave Matt permission to use his first name years ago, he never actually has. And it took him a minute to process that he just did - _twice in the same night_ \- casually, as if it’s something he calls him everyday. His voice catches in his throat, and he just barely chokes out a single syllable. “I—”

“Ferris wheel!”

Eyes brighter than the sun stop looking at him altogether, too enraptured by the glow of the attraction across the way, signaling the stroke of midnight.

Shiro does his best not to seem disappointed, not to feel like he keeps getting cheated out of telling Matt how he cares for him, each and every time there’s a spare moment - but it’s not so easy. There’s no time to waste, not when the techie’s life moves so much faster than his own, the times they spend together that play out in slow motion are too few and far between.

He has to say something now.

But… he doesn’t.

Those breathtakingly expressive eyes take over his entire being; they shine with such happiness, such immature desire, and raw wishes that Shiro just wants to give him everything and more.

And if that’s a seat on the ferris wheel at midnight, he’s more than willing.

Shiro stands as he drops what’s left of his meal and grabs for a napkin, pulling Matt’s attention away from the ring for just a second before he follows suit, beaming smile on his lips when the cop takes hold of the Black Lion - as if he knows he’s getting exactly what he wants. “Let’s make it before the fireworks.”

Matt gasps and bounces in a way that makes Shiro forget that the man’s almost thirty. “There are fireworks?!”

He just smiles, jolting as his friend hooks their elbows together, pulling him toward their final ride. Shiro tries to ignore the way Matt’s hand holds his bicep tightly, and how his fingers stroke along clothed skin a little too intimately than he expects.

Once they arrive at the ticket line, he’s surprised just how quickly they were permitted a seat, especially with how popular the ferris wheel attraction usually is. He can’t say it isn’t nice, however, not when their cart takes off and Matt sits so close to him - their bodies pressed together, hip to hip, shoulder to shoulder.

It travels slowly, stopping for a minute or two when each buggy reaches the top, giving everyone riding a full view of the fairgrounds - colorful and breathtaking.

It’s when they finally reach the top that Shiro knows--

_It has to be now._

“Matt, I really need to tell you something.” It sounds almost desperate at this point, but he can’t hold it in any longer; his best friend just turns away from the light show, his eyes soft and skin bathed in a warm glow, so close that their lips would touch if he simply leans in to close the gap.

“What is it?” His voice is a whisper of an exhaled breath, soft in comparison to what Shiro is used to, and it catches him off guard.

But it doesn’t stop him, not this time.

“It’s just… for so long, I’ve cared about you and I’ve been your friend, but you’re so much more to me than that.” His voice is a little thick and he swallows. “I just need you to know that I really like you.”

Matt smiles softly, reaching between them to take Shiro’s hand, and it’s enough for him to nearly stop breathing.

“I’d hope so, or else this would be a really awkward date.”

And then, he really does stop. “Wait. _Date?_ ”

“Well, yeah.” Matt’s expression becomes a series of tight, awkward movements until lips eventually pull into a strained smile. “I asked you to go out with me last week… you know, to come here.”

Shiro’s mind reels as he tries to recall that moment just a few days ago - Matt’s odd use of words when he suggested the festival, how he put an emphasis on _‘just you and me.’_ He berates himself after a second, realizing that he had asked Matt if he had a fever when he _should_ have noticed that he’d been _blushing._

The hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

“Oh.”

“Oh, _God._ ” The tech’s voice is an embarrassed, high-pitched break. “So you didn’t think this was a date?”

“I just-- we always go out as friends, I thought--”

“Oh, God!” Matt’s tone rises in volume. “I’ve been laying it on so thick! I… I called you _Takashi._ ”

Shiro stares at him for a long few seconds, sifting back through the night’s events with wide eyes and that dumb look on his face Matt always says he had whenever he’d forgotten to do an assignment back in college. The first thing that runs through his mind is the way his friend had been consistently touching him all evening, in a way that was far too close to be friendly, followed by his insistence to help him ‘shoot’ or how he’d been trying to win something for him at the game booths despite the fact that he had to win them all himself.

This whole time, Matt’s been trying to win his heart and Shiro didn’t even know it because his best friend already _has_ it.

Always did.

“I’m such an idiot,” he groans, raking a hand across his face. “This whole night I was thinking of the best way to confess to you.”

Matt just smiles at him at the admission and now Shiro _knows_ that’s a blush and not just his imagination. “Well, I guess you know what my answer would have been.”

“I would have never thought…” And part of him still doesn’t, even though he’s believed they would be good for each other for years.

“Shiro, I’m crazy about you.” The way he says it kickstarts an already pounding heart, and it feels like he’s been winded. “I have been for a long time.” It’s not something he imagined would happen like this, but he’s glad that it is, especially when Matt pulls in close - looking a little expectant.

“I’m crazy about _you,_ ” he admits like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, and he doesn’t hesitate to press his lips to Matt’s smile.

The kiss they share is brief, a school yard peck that makes the tech laugh under his breath, but Shiro doesn’t think their first could have been more perfect.

“Come on,” the man’s voice is an unexpected whisper as he gets comfortable in his seat, “let’s enjoy these fireworks - just you, me, Beezer, and Black.”

It’s Shiro’s turn to laugh. “You _named_ them?”

A finger puppet invades his personal space then, appearing from a hidden pocket and bopping him gently on the nose; grinning softly, Shiro just reaches up to take his hand, entwining their fingers as they cuddle themselves together in the small space they have left next to ‘Black.’

“Yeah…” he agrees fondly, “I did.”

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments are appreciated! And don't be afraid to find me on [Tumblr](http://birdsandivory.tumblr.com).


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